Chapter Three
Beau
We were supposed to be out in the pastures an hour ago.
No.
Fuck that.
It was Christmas Eve morning, and I was supposed to be in bed with Abbie.
I tipped my head back, resting it against the barn wall, listening to Mags chew out Lawson for fucking up Midnight’s feeding last night—because he was trying to make Christmas cookies.
“It was fucking cold, Mags! The temps were in the low teens last night!” Lawson argued.
Here we fucking go.
“So you can go inside to make some fucking cookies for yourself?” Mags growled. “But leave my horse to starve?”
“She had food! I just didn’t top her off,” Lawson argued. He swallowed. “The cookies weren’t for me.”
“If you say they were for fuckin’ Santa, your ashes will be spread on Kings’ Mountain before sunset.”
“Mags,” Pop warned gently, his weathered voice steady.
I rolled my tongue, moving my toothpick to the opposite side of my mouth in an effort not to laugh as Mags glared at Lawson like he was the dumbest person on the planet.
And today, he just might be. From beside me, I heard the heavy footfalls of Denver as he came down the stairs from his office loft.
Just as I was walking into this shit show a few moments ago, he’d gotten a phone call from Chase, Hayden’s sheriff.
Once Denver was at the base of the wooden stairs, his smoke-gray eyes landing on me, I jerked my chin.
“What did he want?”
Denver pocketed the phone and shook his head. “Power went out on Main Street last night. Pole fell down just outside of town, tripping up the entire grid.”
My dad cleared his throat and chimed in from his place across from me. “Some of those poles were planted when I was kid. It was just a matter of time before they collapsed.”
“Is the shop all right? The flowers?” I asked. When Abbie and I were there last week, Valerie had nearly all the holiday orders out and didn’t have much inventory left, but what she did needed to be kept in refrigerators.
Denver nodded. “I’ll go into town this afternoon and check on it, just to be safe.”
“Diana can go,” Mags called. All eyes were on him then, and unfortunately, Lawson was still pinned to the wall, Mags’s thick forearm pressed across his chest. “She’s going into town to give Emma and Thomas their gifts.”
And to pick up the extra decor.
Denver’s eyes narrowed. “Is that her only reason for going into town?”
Pop and I shared a look.
Denver wasn’t supposed to know about the Christmas dinner until Val told him about it this afternoon.
When she came to Abbie and me a few weeks ago, the last thing we expected was for her to ask us what our holiday plans were.
Since Abbie had moved into our cabin, we’d been so busy trying to catch up that we’d forgotten about the holiday season.
If Valerie hadn’t come over, we probably would have spent Christmas tangled together in our sheets, fulfilling old promises.
“Sorry I’m late.”
All heads and bodies turned to face the entrance of the barn where Mason stood, shoving his truck keys into the pocket of his Wranglers.
“Nice of you to finally join us,” I drawled.
He flipped me off as he greeted my father and then slapped his brother on the back. “Look, it’s cold as balls and I have a wife I really want to get back home to. So let’s cut the chitchat and get to work, yeah?”
His older brother looked to the ceiling and muttered something about not having any more patience.
“So you just waltz on in here—late, by the way—and start barking orders, huh?” Lance asked from the back of the group.
“Your brother left his chores to go chase his Christmas baking dreams,” Mags clipped. “Shut the hell up.”
Lance pointed at his twin. “My brother’s incompetence don’t got shit to do with me.”
Pop grunted as he pushed off the wall and shook his head as he went to grab his saddle. “Those boys are never quiet,” he muttered.
A rough chuckle left me. Even though I loved living with Abbie in our cabin, I missed the pointless bickering that happened every day in the bunkhouse. It was free entertainment. “Mags could make them quiet,” I said, grinning at Mags.
“Denver, what’s up your ass?” Lance asked as he pulled his judgmental glare off his brother.
And just like that, all the fun was sucked out of the barn, leaving behind a heavy silence.
I refrained from pinching the bridge of my nose and looked at Mason, who, for the first time in a long time, chose to remain quiet.
That bull rider loved to run his mouth, but not about this.
Then again, this was Mason’s first Christmas back home since high school.
I assumed he wasn’t going to touch this subject with a ten-foot pole.
“It’s cold as shit and your twin, after five years on my ranch, still doesn’t know how to prioritize his fuckin’ chores,” Denver answered him before looking at Mags. “I told you on the phone to not kill him.”
“Not killing him, Kings,” Mags deadpanned as Lawson squirmed against the wall. “Just plottin’.”
“I-I’m sorry, okay?” Lawson breathed. “I wanted to get back to the bunkhouse and make the cookies before—” He shut up, snapping his mouth shut as his twin shook his head, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“Before what?” Mags pushed out on a growl.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your little Harvard friend leaving late last night, would it?” Pop asked coyly, shooting me a smirk. “Did you think some holiday cookies would make her stay, Lawson? After what you said to her?”
My ears perked up. “What did you say?”
Lance pulled off his hat, running his hand through his hair. “Nothing. She’s just throwing a tantrum. This ain’t the first time she’s thrown one and it won’t be the last.”
The Harvard friend, a stranger to Hallow Ranch only a few months ago, was Destiny. She was an old friend of the twins and fearless as they came.
“I thought she was staying until the New Year.” This came from Denver. He was the one who’d invited her back to Hallow Ranch in the fall to help the twins with the herd tracking system.
“Plans changed,” Lawson clipped, still struggling against Mags.
Oh yeah, something went down.
I made a mental note to send Abbie to the bunkhouse for answers. The twins wouldn’t tell me shit, but they would tell Abbie. Then again, she had some special journalism mind powers.
Mason threw his arm out, laughing. “Would you let the man go?”
When Mags didn’t move, Denver sighed. “We need to get going, Mags.”
That worked.
“Stop fuckin’ up,” Mags ordered the twins. “You have been cowboys too long for this shit. Hallow Ranch comes first.”
She always did.
Half an hour later, Mason and I approached the herd on the south side of pasture three, the cold air around us deathly still.
My eyes scanned over the black beasts and muddy snow underneath them as Mason shifted on his horse beside me.
The sun was hidden by clouds, and toward the west, the sky was unusually dark.
It was a sight I was all too familiar with.
There was a storm coming, and by the looks of it, it was going to be devastating.
My mind went to Abbie, knowing she was due to head to Washington D.C. for a story on the twenty-sixth. There was no telling how long this blizzard would last—or how long we would be snowed in.
Mason’s gruff voice pulled me from my thoughts. “He knows.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, looking at him and tightening my hold on my reins. “What are you going to do?”
The bull rider’s head snapped toward me, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“He’s your brother, Mase.”
“I know that.”
“Okay, and forgive me for saying this—no, fuck that—I’ve been on this ranch my entire life and I get to say my piece about this,” I said, turning Spirit toward him. Mason didn’t say a word, only lifting his chin as if he was bracing for mine. I raised my finger. “You both are fucking cowards.”
Mason blinked. “Excuse me?”
“It’s fucking Christmas Eve, and both of you have been avoiding the subject of Christmas since you came back home years ago.”
My words seemed to snap him out of his shock. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“Your father was a fucking monster,” I declared as the herd began to shift in front of us.
Neither of us cared. I was too fucking cold to care, but I was going to get this out.
“But your momma Jane? She was a fucking angel, and she brought the spirit of Christmas to Hallow Ranch every fucking year.”
“You weren’t around much then, Beau,” he said slowly, his voice growing darker with each word.
I nodded. “Yeah, I was with my own fucking mother who didn’t want me, but guess who was here?
Pop. He told me all about Jane.” Small snow flurries began falling from the gray heavens, surrounding us as the rest of the cowboys finally made it into the pasture, getting ready to move the herd.
“Your father loved Christmas, but you know better than anyone that he changed after she died.”
“Don’t cross that line, Beau,” he warned.
“Oh, I’m about to fuckin’ obliterate it.
” I didn’t give him a chance to respond.
“How much have you overcome? How much has Denver overcome? Harmony? Val? Hell, all of us, Mason! Everyone on this ranch has survived their own versions of hell, and now, we’re here, on the other side of it, ready to celebrate a holiday meant to bring everyone together, and you’re too chickenshit to talk to Denver about the pain you both associate with this time. ”
He said nothing, letting the storm in his eyes show me his anger, his pain. “We aren’t ready for that.”
“Been home nearly four years, Mase,” I reminded him gently. “You may not be ready for it, but it’s overdue.”
He looked away from me. “You can’t put a time stamp on healing.”
Fuck, he was going to make me do it.
“And when you bring your son home next month, are you going to teach him to avoid Christmas? Teach him that nothing good comes of this damn holiday, like your father did?”
“What the hell did you just say to me?” he asked, his voice laced with malice. Now it was my turn to brace as he turned on his saddle to face me. Underneath the brim of his hat, I saw the ghost of his father’s anger, the dark shadow of his past looming over his face. “You know about the adoption?”
My head tilted slightly to the left. “You told Pop, man. You should’ve known that man cannot keep a fucking secret—”
“He didn’t tell anyone about our conversations when I was on the road.” He cut me off, jaw jumping now.
“Oh, he can keep secrets from me and the rest of the men, but from Abbie?” I shook my head. “Pop tells her everything.”
There was a beat of silence before he said, “Denver doesn’t know yet—no one is supposed to know. Harm and I were waiting until the right time.” He paused. “We just got the phone call last week.”
I knew that.
I knew everything.
“Abbie and I haven’t said a word to anyone,” I assured him. He looked back to the herd and I leaned over, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Congratulations, though. Abbie practically leaped into the air when Pop told her the news.”
His chest rose and fell a few times before he spoke again. “I don’t want to be like my father.”
“You won’t be.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you’re stronger than he ever was,” I said firmly.
He shot me an annoyed look. “You just called me a coward two minutes ago, Beau.”
“Only called you that to get you riled up so you could tear down this wall in front of you.”
“When did you become a therapist?”
I chuckled. “Mags must be rubbing off on me, I guess.”
Mason looked down to his reins, fumbling them between his gloved hands. “How am I supposed to teach Denver how to love Christmas when I only loved it to piss off our father as an act of rebellion?”
“No one can tell you how to love anything, Mase.”
As the rest of the cowboys hollered across the snow-covered field for us, Mason’s eyes met mine. The rage in them had diminished.
“You have to let love in,” I said. “Both of you. Not only for yourselves, but for the sake of your son, your niece, and your nephew.”
“Christmas is just a holiday, Beau.”
A small smile found my lips. “Yeah, I used to believe that too.”